


Boxers or Briefs

by puss_nd_boots



Category: SCREW (Band), the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Kitchen Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruki and Byou are a couple, and when Ruki sees the underwear ads that Byou did for Civarize, he's instantly jealous. But as Byou asks him, do seeing the ads - and thinking of other people being turned on by him - make him hot under the collar, or just plain hot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boxers or Briefs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Emotion Play/Jealousy square of my second Penisy Kinks Bingo card. If you haven't seen the notorious Byou underwear pictures yet, [here's a link](http://screw-fan-no-purojekuto.tumblr.com/post/67770003014/civarize-underwear-x-byou-screw) \- have a nosebleed bucket handy. ~_^

There were things Ruki just didn’t do – at least according to his friends. He didn’t keep cats – he was a dog person all the way. He didn’t say “Oh, that’s good enough” when he was recording – he was a perfectionist.

And he didn’t cook. He could make spaghetti and meatballs, but that was it. Other than that, he was the king of premade foods. “I don’t have time,” he’d tell anyone who asked about the subject.

Which is why his friends would probably be standing with their jaws hanging open to the floor if they could see the state Ruki was in at this particular moment.

He was standing at the kitchen counter, furiously chopping away at a pile of vegetables on the cutting board. Peppers, onions and mushrooms were getting sliced and diced, after which the results were dumped in a bowl next to him.

It wasn’t as if he were making anything in particular. After what he’d just seen, Ruki just needed something to chop.

* * *

He was on his third pepper when he heard the door open. He just kept cutting away. He knew damn well it was his lover, and he didn’t want to talk to the bastard at the moment.

“Ruki?” said the all-too-familiar voice in the living room. “Are you home?”

His response to that was to start chopping twice as fast and twice as hard. He was probably going to put a dent in the cutting board. He didn’t care.

“Ruki?” And now footsteps, as he entered the kitchen. “Oh, there you are. I’m back from the signing. There were a LOT of people.”

I’m sure there were, Ruki thought. They turned out in droves to see you in that state, didn’t they?

“Ruki?” And then, a hand waving in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Ruki. Come on, aren’t you even going to say hi to me?”

Goddamit, why did the very sound of his voice have to be hot? Why did he have to be the only one to stir these kind of emotions in Ruki, no matter what he did? Why did he have to . . .

And suddenly, Ruki whirled toward the other man, pointing the knife at him as if it were a katana. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” he said.

The other man blinked, looking surprised. “About what?”

“About that photoshoot!” Ruki said. “A man has a right to know that his lover is about to be plastered all over Shibuya and Harajuku and God only knows where else wearing only his underwear!”

“It’s not like that,” Byou said, inching away from the knife.

“Oh, it’s not?”

“There’s a shirt involved, too.” Another step backward.

“The shirt only makes it worse!” Oh, yes, Ruki had seen the pictures, all right, and the shirt only served to draw attention to Byou’s perfect torso and pert nipples and flat stomach and . . .

“Ruki . . .” Byou reached out, put his hand on top of Ruki’s knife hand and gently pushed downward, trying to disarm him. “It’s not like I haven’t been photographed in underwear before.”

Oh, Ruki remembered the other time he had very well. He imagined the rather R-rated Teardrop promo had caused stampedes in CD shops. “That’s different,” he said. “It was a promo for a single. It wasn’t a billboard.”

“This isn’t a billboard,” Byou said.

“And a fucking good thing it isn’t, because that would cause accidents!” Ruki could just see the headlines now – “Half-naked, incredibly hot man causes 10-car pileup in Shibuya . . .”

“It’s just big posters in the store window, “ Byou said. “And some print ads. Nothing more than the other Civarize campaigns.”

“Nothing more, except you’re wearing a lot less.” Ruki went back to his chopping.

Suddenly, Byou moved back in front of him, looking rather amused. “Ruki . . . I think you’re jealous.”

“What the fuck gave you that idea?” More chopping, so hard that small pieces of pepper were being scattered all over the counter.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Byou caught a couple of pieces as they flew off the side. “Maybe the fact that you’re assaulting a pepper?”

“I have a right to make dinner.”

“Says the guy whose offstage name is Let’s Get Takeout?” Byou suddenly put his fingers under Ruki’s chin and tipped his head upward. “I think the question here is whether thinking of people looking at my ads makes you hot under the collar – or just hot.”

“You’re crazy.” Ruki smacked the hand away.

“Am I?” Byou leaned in closer – a rather big risk, given the flying, chopping knife. “You mean you’re not at least a little turned on by the idea of all sorts of women, and guys, running their eyes over those posters? Imagining all the things they want to do to me . . .”

Fuck, Ruki had finished with his piece of pepper. He frantically grabbed for a bunch of shitake mushrooms and started on those.

“You don’t like thinking about all those young girls taking the ads home, and touching themselves in their bedrooms . . .”

He was fucking crazy. No way would Ruki want to think about those girls getting off on his lover. Byou was the one getting turned on by it all. See, his skin was starting to take on that nice flush it did right before he bent Ruki over. . . .

Okay, Ruki wasn’t getting turned on by that, either. His face just felt warm from his efforts chopping the vegetables.

“And you don’t like the idea of other guys looking at the poster and thinking about touching me? Maybe even guys that we know? Maybe they’re imagining touching me with you watching. . .”

Oh, that was NOT fair. Fuck. His breath was coming rapidly now, and his heart was starting to pound. This should NOT be hot. He shouldn’t be getting off on the idea of other men with his lover.

No – what he was getting off on was other men _wanting_ his lover. Knowing they looked at him, desired him, fantasized about him . . . but they weren’t the ones that would ultimately have him. Even if they momentarily enjoyed his body, they’d never capture his heart.

That belonged to Ruki, and Ruki alone. And that idea was hotter than anything else.

“But then . . . “ Byou switched positions so he was coming up behind Ruki, one arm around his waist, leaning over so their bodies were pressed together. “He’ll have to watch me fuck you instead.”

Ruki turned his head, and Byou leaned over more, and just like that, they were kissing, their lips coming together sweet and hot and wet, Ruki opening his lips quickly, welcoming the other man’s swiftly probing tongue.

He felt Byou slide a hand down his body, cupping over his crotch and starting to rub, firmly, taking a slight stirring there and starting to coax it into a full-blown erection. He knew just how to touch him, too, where his most sensitive places were, how to reduce him to a moaning, quivering mess . . .

And in this position, it was impossible to retaliate for what Byou was doing. All Ruki could do was push his hips backward and thrust against his lover, trying to make him just as hard. At least they would be even in that regard.

“You’re really turned on by all this, aren’t you?” Byou whispered this in Ruki’s ear right before dragging his tongue slowly up the side of his neck, drawing a moan from the smaller man. He was very sensitive right there, and the way the other man was taking his time, savoring Ruki as if he were a delicious sweet . . .

“What do you think?” Ruki growled.

“Why don't you tell me?” Byou was reaching around his body now to unbutton Ruki’s shirt, unfastening a couple of buttons, then reaching in to caress the skin, then unfastening more . . .

The bastard. “It’s getting very tight in my pants right now, thanks to you,” Ruki mumbled.

So, of course, Byou just had to finish unbuttoning the shirt and reach down to Ruki’s zipper, pulling it down with a loud sound that reverberated through the kitchen. “Is that better?” he murmured.

“If I’m getting naked,” Ruki replied, “you’re going to have to as well.”

“That’s only fair.” Byou leaned away and Ruki took the opportunity to whirl around so he was facing him, grabbing Byou’s designer T-shirt at the hem and yanking it upward. The other man raised his arms above his head, and Ruki yanked the shirt off, tossing it away . . .

He leaned over, taking one nipple in his mouth with a low growl of pure lust, fingers working on the other one, teasing it into a little peak. The long, low groan Byou let out was like the sweetest of music.

Ruki flicked his tongue back and forth, enjoying the interplay of sensations – the scent of his lover’s body, the salty tang of his skin, the feel of the hardening flesh, the sound of ragged breathing . . .

The only part of Byou’s sexuality the rest of the world would be able to experience would be sight, the image of his near-naked body. The rest, all the best parts, were all Ruki’s.

He yanked Byou’s zipper down, pushed at the pants and dropped to his knees, taking that glorious cock in his mouth before his lover could even register what was happening. His full lips surrounded it, pulling it in as he began to move his head back and forth, sucking hard.

This was as much for his pleasure as Byou’s. He loved having his mouth fucked. He loved the intimacy of it, the wild sensations, and yes, the power of it, the feeling of being in control of his partner’s ecstasy.

He had a good angle, too. He was able to get it in deep, to move way down on it, until he could feel it at the back of his throat. Which just inspired him to try going down even further . . .

“Oh, FUCK!” Byou cried, hands pulling at Ruki’s hair. “Ruki . . .”

Oh, if only the fangirls that Byou was talking about before could see _this_ , the sight of one vocalist full-blown deep-throating another . . . he could only imagine what Byou looked like, too, head leaning back, face a mask of pleasure, skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat . . .

Ruki suddenly felt Byou grabbing him under the arm and pulling upward – a “stop before I come” signal if there ever was one. He stood back up – and found himself spun around, bent over the cutting board. He quickly shoved the knife out of the way, because the last thing in the world he wanted was an injury ruining this moment.

“You like that thing in your mouth?” Byou said. “You’re about to get it in the other end. Hard.”

There was a pause, during which Ruki heard Byou fumbling in the pocket of his discarded pants – because, of course, both of them always carried little bottles of lube with them. Passion between them tended to strike in the most unusual places.

A slick finger pressed into him, and Ruki let out a long breath, gripping the counter with both hands. Byou was even good at this part. When some other guys Ruki had been with just shoved the finger in and out enough to open him up, Byou curved the digit, and flicked it to and fro, and caressed here, then there. If there was any discomfort at all, Ruki didn’t notice it – because it was too buried beneath sweet, hot pleasure.

A second finger entered him, then a third, and Byou curved them upward, rubbing in little circles, looking for one spot in particular.

He found it. Ruki’s whole body stiffened as a blast of pleasure shot through him. His toes curled, his nipples got even harder, and he let out a noise that was more akin to an animal than a human.

Suck my beast, indeed. Though right now, it was more like fuck my beast.

“Are you ready?” Byou murmured. “Do you want to take my cock?”

Ruki looked back over his shoulder at his lover. “You get off on teasing, don’t you?”

“And you get off on driving men nuts with that mouth.” Ruki felt Byou’s hardness starting to press against him. “So we’re even.”

He took a deep breath and willed himself to relax, and soon that wonderful thing was pushing into his body, starting to fill him up . . .

“Just like our first time,” Byou murmured, “you bent over like this, that pretty ass sticking up . . .”

Oh, Ruki remembered. That wasn’t in a kitchen, though – it was in a men’s room. Specifically, a public men’s room during a PSC party. He’d been bent over like he was now, though, gripping the sink, watching in the mirror as Byou plowed into him . . .

He didn’t have a mirror now. He didn’t need one. He could feel Byou’s chest pushed against his back, and those arms around his waist, trapping him in place (like he’d move now if his life depended on it).

And that cock was starting to move inside him, just as he liked it, stroking him from inside, making him moan . . .

“Why are you so fucking good?” Ruki murmured.

“Maybe because you’re so goddamn sexy,” Byou replied.

And he was moving faster, harder, making Ruki grip the counter, face pressed down on the cutting board, ass thrusting backward, grinding against the other man, thinking it had never been like this with anyone else, this feeling of being not so much fucked as flat-out possessed, again and again . . .

Byou was just about pistoning in and out of him now, he was moving so fast and hard, his hand wrapping around Ruki’s body to grasp his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, drawing louder and louder moans . . . oh, fuck, fuck, Ruki was so lost in pleasure that he wasn’t even capable of thought, he could only grab at the counter like a drowning man grabbing at wood, hips thrusting and thrusting, voice letting out God only knew what kind of sounds . . .

A quick sweep of fingers across the tip of his erection and Ruki let go, nearly screaming in pleasure, his body shaking, come pouring over his lover’s hand. He sagged to the counter, limp, panting, feeling Byou thrust hard within him a few more times . . .

Then, he heard his lover cry out, and felt one last hard, sharp thrust, before Byou collapsed on top of him, as worn out as he was.

The two lovers just stayed where they were, panting . . . until Ruki reached him, fingers running over his head, then holding them in front of his face. Byou nuzzled him, and Ruki turned his head so they could kiss, tenderly.

“Did I ever mention how much I fucking love you?” Ruki said.

“You might have.” Byou kissed his neck. “I love you, too.”

Ruki reached up and touched his hair again. “What’s wrong?” Byou said.

“There’s fucking peppers in my hair,” Ruki replied.

Byou nuzzled him again. “Probably good for it,” he murmured. “Like a hair treatment.”

“Not the kind of treatment I usually use,” Ruki said.

“Know what’s supposed to be even better for hair, or skin?” Byou said. “Semen. Later on you can suck me again, and I’ll pull out and come on your hair.”

“This had better be before I take a shower,” Ruki said.

“Well, then you can suck me in the shower, too,” Byou said. “Or maybe you can give me a hair treatment. Although I might want a facial instead.”

Ruki put his head back down on the cutting board, peppers be damned. Probably were a few onions in there, too. At least his hair would be well-seasoned. “You never answered my very first question. Why didn’t you tell me about the ad in advance?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this,” Byou said, wrapping his arms around Ruki and hugging. “I knew you’d end up getting hotter than if I’d just flat-out told you.”

“Bastard.” Why did he have to know him too well?

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Ruki didn’t reply – because the son of a bitch was right. And that’s precisely why he loved him.


End file.
